Humans are humans When we see a beautiful vase, we praise. We don’t care if the inside is rotten. “It is hidden” we say. Humans are humans, I guess. We feast through the eyes first. And how they make us feel come second. Though some have the ability to see beauty in everything. While some, finding only beautiful things is everything.
Humans are humans We appreciate too late. Regretting our fates. When things are gone, only then we feel how they are always there all along. Making us whole. We put values on faces, colours and shape. We say we are different. One is better than the other and we stir up hate. Yet when we bleed, it still the same red shade.